n artist, and it was he who, being
struck with Willie's talent, had given him instruction, and taught him
all he knew about art. But the boy was now thirsting for more knowledge.
If only he could be trained to be an artist! That was his dream, and
often he would sit at his little window, looking over the blue waters
of the bay, while his eyes would fill with tears as he thought how
impossible it was for a little ignorant boy to paint pictures which
would have any beauty.

His pathetic face attracted Dora and Elsie Vaughan as they passed the
cottage every day. They were having a perfectly lovely time in this
Devonshire village, where their father had taken a house for the summer
holidays. Mr. Vaughan was a celebrated artist, and Willie would watch
him eagerly as he passed with his canvas and sketching materials, and
would long for a sight of the pictures which would soon be so famous.

'That poor little cripple boy does look sad,' Dora said to her sister.
'I think we ought to go and visit him and take him some flowers.'

'But he is not always a prisoner,' Elsie answered. 'I see him on the
beach sometimes with his crutches, and he is often trying to sketch
boats and things.'

[Illustration: "He could hardly find words to welcome them."]

'Anyway it must be dull for him, and we might cheer him up a little,'
Dora persisted.

'It is rather tiresome, though, when there are such heaps of lovely
things to do, and the holidays do fly so quickly,' Elsie argued, for she
was not as unselfish as her sister, and did not much care to give up her
own pleasure.

However, Dora had her way, for Elsie knew from former experience that if
she were really set on a thing, it saved trouble to give in at once and
make the best of it. She even found a box of chocolates not quite
empty, and with the sweets that were left, and some of Dora's, was able
to fill a smaller box. Then they begged some cakes from the cook, and
hunted up a couple of story-books from the number they had brought with
them, and in the end had quite a well-filled basket for Elsie to carry.
Dora picked a bunch of roses and then they set out for the cottage.

When they arrived Willie was sitting before his easel, looking sadly at
his latest attempt at a picture, and thinking how poor it was compared
with the scene his imagination painted. He was so shy and so much
overcome by the honour of their visit that he could hardly find words to
welcome them, but the girls' excla